‘And if we’re being honest – entre nous, of course – he does have a point, does he not? If we brought the V-1 and V-2 programmes to an end and the Nazis ploughed all their resources into the Luftwaffe, that could rebound on us. If there’s no chance of these rockets working, then maybe one can see the merit in letting them delude themselves.’

‘So what are you saying, Tom – call the whole thing off? You were the one who was so keen…’

‘Not at all. I’m just trying to see both points of view. But I agree we need to get someone inside Peenemünde.’

‘Do we have anyone in that part of the world?’

Gilbey shook his head and frowned. ‘I’ve already asked around, SOE Polish section and various others. The nearest would be the Polish Home Army in Stettin, but they’re still quite far away and we can never be totally sure which of their units have been turned by the Nazis. In my professional opinion, we need an agent of our own, someone we can trust.’

‘You have someone in mind, don’t you?’

Gilbey nodded, though tentatively, as if he was still giving thought to the matter.

‘It’s Laertes, isn’t it, Tom? You think he’s up to it?’

‘I’m not sure, to be honest. He ended his report by asking when we were bringing him home and what the travel arrangements were, very much as if we’re a branch of Thomas bloody Cook. However, he’s been tested in the field and has proven to be resilient, and it’s not as if northern Germany is overcrowded with British agents. And Copenhagen is not too far from Peenemünde as the crow flies…’

‘But he’s not a crow, is he? He’s got to get into the Reich from Denmark and then across to the site: that’s a perilous journey in anyone’s book. And what kind of cover would he have? He can’t just wander into a top-secret site taking snaps, can he?’

‘The one thing we did get from the Poles is that there are thousands of slave labourers there: they’d assumed it was a factory. We can send Agent Laertes in as one of them.’

Sir Roland looked up at his former schoolmate, trying hard to disguise his scepticism at the plan. ‘Isn’t that rather easier said than done? Where are all these labourers from?’

‘The Poles say the majority are Polish, but there are also Russians and Ukrainians and more recently quite a number of French.’

‘No Danes, then?’

Gilbey shook his head. ‘Laertes speaks a bit of French, according to Hendrie.’

‘Quite the polyglot, isn’t he? Remember that modern languages master at school who was reputed to speak a dozen languages? What was his name?’

‘Johnson, wasn’t it?’